The best plan, which, as it appears to me, I can adopt for disarming any reasonable suspicion on the part of my jurors, (all, I feel sure, candid and enlightened men), as well as for doing justice to my own character as a critic, is to state frankly what I do not claim for my client, the late Alexander Pope. I do not, then, pretend to place him on the very highest pedestal of poetry, among the few foremost of the tuneful monarchs and lawgivers of mankind. Confining ourselves to our own country, I do not, of course, ask you to put him on a level with the universal, undisputed, unassailable supremacy of Shakespeare-nor with Milton, of whom Mr. Macaulay, whom this town once honoured itself by making its representative, has lately thus beautifully spoken

“A mightier spirit, unsubdued by pain, danger, poverty, obloquy, and blindness, meditated, undisturbed by the obscene tumult which raged all around, a song so sublime and so holy, that it could not have misbecome the lips of those ethereal beings whom he saw, with that inner eye which no calamity could darken, flinging down on the jasper pavement their crowns of amaranth and gold."

I fancy that some might wish to make a further reserve for the gentle fancy of Spenser, though the obsolete character of much of his phraseology, and the tediousness inseparable from all forms of sustained allegory, must, I apprehend, in these days, very considerably contract the number of his readers. Nay, I can quite allow for the preference being given to Pope's more immediate predecessor, Dryden, whose compositions, though assuredly less finished and complete, undoubtedly exhibit a more nervous vein of argumentative power, and a greater variety of musical rhythm. When I have mentioned these august names, I have mentioned all, writing in the English tongue, who, in my humble apprehension, can possibly be classed before Pope.

I may observe, that in this estimate I appear to be confirmed by the present Commissioners of Fine Arts, who, in selecting the Poets from whose works subjects for six vacant spaces in the new Palace of Westminster were to be executed by living artists, named Chaucer, (who by his antiquity as well as his merits was properly appointed to lead the line of English bards,) Shakespeare, Spenser, Milton, Dryden, and Pope.

Though I conceive, and you will readily concur, that the case I am endeavouring to make good must be mainly established by my client's own precise words, and the anticipated pleasure of quoting them to attentive ears has been, perhaps, my chief inducement to undertake the office which I am now fulfilling, -yet I consider it will not be out of place for the object I have in view, especially before an audience of a nation which much delights in, and is indeed much ruled by, precedent, if I should quote a few approved authorities, (had time permitted I might have availed myself of a great number,) merely for the purpose of showing that if you should be pleased to side with me in this issue, we shall find ourselves in company of which we shall have no need to be ashamed.

I shall also thus furnish a proof of what I have stated above, that I am not straining after originality or novelty of remark; indeed, I feel that I shall make way in proportion as the testimony I adduce proceeds from lips more trustworthy than my own.

What says Savage, a poet himself of irregular, but no mean genius? He thus speaks of Pope

"Though gay as mirth, as curious thought sedate,

As elegance polite, as power elate,

Profound as reason, and as justice clear,

Soft as persuasion, yet as truth severe,

As bounty copious, as persuasion sweet,
Like nature various, and like art complete :
So fine her morals, so sublime her views,
His life is almost equalled by his muse."

Part of this commendation, I must admit, appears even to me overstrained.
Some of Pope's compositions are marred by occasional coarseness and indelicacy,
and his mind and character, I fear it must be allowed, were at times disfigured
by envy, resentment, and littleness. Compared, however, with most of his pre-
decessors of the reign of Charles II., and with many of his own cotemporaries,
both his muse and his life may have been deemed decent and severe.
He seems
himself, at all events, to have indulged in this estimate of the tenor of his own
productions:-

"Curst be the verse, how well soe'er it flow,
That tends to make one honest man my foe,
Give virtue scandal, innocence a fear,

Or from the soft-eyed virgin steal a tear."

I return to my authorities.

I do not quote Bishop Warburton, as he was the avowed apologist, as well as executor and editor, of Pope.

Dr. Joseph Warton, who wrote an essay on the genius and writings of Pope, chiefly with a view of proving what I have admitted above, that he ought not to be ranked in the highest class of our native poets, and who appears to wish, as I certainly do not, to have a hit at him whenever he can, concedes, however, thus much to him,—

"In the species of poetry wherein Pope excelled, he is superior to all mankind, and I only say that this species of poetry is not the most excellent one of the art. He is the great poet of reason, the first of ethical authors in verse.' Dr. Johnson, in his well-known and most agreeable life of Pope, says thus,— "Of his intellectual character, the constituent and fundamental principle was good sense ;" and then," Pope had likewise genius, a mind active, ambitious, and adventurous, always investigating, always aspiring, in its widest searches longing to go forward, in its highest flights still wishing to be higher."

And at the close of the masterly contrast which he draws between Dryden and Pope, he thus sums it up,

"If the flights of Dryden are higher, Pope continues longer on the wing; if of Dryden's fire the blaze is brighter, of Pope is the heat more regular and constant. Dryden often surpasses expectation, and Pope never falls below it; Dryden is read with frequent astonishment, and Pope with perpetual delight."

Mason, also a poet and very accomplished man, who had done so much in editing and illustrating the works of another most eminent and admirable master of his art, (I refer to Gray,) has shown what an exalted estimate he had formed of Pope, in the passage where he reproaches him for the undue praise which he had lavished on the famous Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke

"Call we the shade of Pope from that blest bower,
Where throned he sits with many a tuneful sage;

Ask, if he ne'er repents that luckless hour,
When St. John's name illumined glory's page.

Ask, if the wretch who dared his honour stain,
Ask, if his country's, his religion's foe,
Deserved the wreath that Marlboro' failed to gain,
The deathless meed, he only could bestow?"

B 2

George, Lord Lyttelton, another poet himself, calls him "The sweetest and most elegant of English poets, the severest chastiser of vice, and the most persuasive teacher of wisdom."

How speaks Campbell, the author of the Pleasures of Hope, and the Battle of the Baltic? If any one is entitled to speak of what true poetry is, that right will not be denied to Thomas Campbell. He calls Pope, "a genuine poet," and says with true discrimination :

"The public ear was long fatigued with repetitions of his manner; but if we place ourselves in the situation of those to whom his brilliancy, succinctness, and animation were wholly new, we cannot wonder at their being captivated to the fondest admiration."

I will only further cite from the poets whom many of us remember in our own day, one still more illustrious name. The fervid, wayward, irregular muse of Lord Byron, presented the strongest points of contrast with the measured, even, highlytrained, smoothly-polished, temperament of Pope. What did Lord Byron think of Pope? He terms him, "The most perfect and harmonious of poets-he, who, having no fault, has had reason made his reproach. It is this very harmony which has raised the vulgar and atrocious cant against him-(Lord Byron was fond of using strong language):-because his versification is perfect, it is assumed that it is his only perfection; because his truths are so clear, it is asserted that he has no invention; and because he is always intelligible, it is taken for granted that he has no genius. I have loved and honoured the fame and name of that illustrious and unrivalled man, far more than my own paltry renown, and the trashy jingle of that crowd of schools and upstarts who pretend to rival or even surpass him. Sooner than a single leaf should be torn from his laurel, it were better that all which these men, and that I, as one of their set, have ever written, should line trunks."

There is another and more general testimony to the reputation, at least, if not to the actual merits of Pope, which may be here mentioned; this is, the extent to which his lines are quoted as familiar maxims and illustrations of the daily incidents of life, and the common meanings of men,-quoted often probably by persons who have little knowledge or recollection where the words are to be found. I am inclined to believe that, in this respect, and it is one not to be considered slightingly, he would be found to occupy the second place, next, of course, to the universal Shakespeare himself. Allow me to cite a few instances.

When there has been a pleasant party of people, either in a convivial or intellectual view-I wish we might think it of our meeting this evening-we say that it has been

"The feast of reason, and the flow of soul."

How often are we warned-I have sometimes even heard the warning addressed to Mechanics' Institutes, that—

"A little learning is a dangerous thing."

How often reminded,

"An honest man's the noblest work of God."

Or, with nearly the same meaning,

"Who taught the useful science, to be good."

There is a couplet which I ought to carry in my own recollection-
"What can ennoble sots, or slaves, or cowards?
Alas! not all the blood of all the Howards."

It is an apt illustration of the offices of hospitality,

"Welcome the coming, speed the going guest."

How familiar is the instruction,

"To look, through Nature, up to Nature's God."

As rules with reference to composition,

"The last and greatest art-the art to blot."

"To snatch a grace beyond the reach of art ;"

And then as to the best mode of conveying the instruction,
"Men must be taught as if you taught them not."

There is the celebrated definition of wit,

"True wit is nature to advantage dressed;

What oft was thought, but ne'er so well expressed."

Do you want to illustrate the importance of early education? You observe, "Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined."

Do you wish to characterise ambition somewhat favourably? You call it, "The glorious fault of angels and of gods."

Or describing a great conqueror,

"A mighty hunter, and his prey was man.'

Do you seek the safest rule for architecture or gardening?

"Consult the genius of the place in all ;"

Or, with exquisite good sense,

""Tis use alone that sanctifies expense,

And splendour borrows all her rays from sense.'

Are you tempted to say any thing rather severe to your wife or daughter, when she insists on a party of pleasure, or an expensive dress? You tell her,

"That every woman is at heart a rake.”

And then if you wish to excuse your own submission, you plead"If to her share some female errors fall,

Look on her face, and you'll forget them all."

How often are we inclined to echo the truth

"That fools rush in where angels fear to tread."

And this too,

"That gentle dulness often loves a joke."

Who has not felt this to be true?

"Hope springs eternal in the human breast;

Man never is, but always to be blest."

When an orator, or a Parliamentary candidate-in which last capacity I have often appeared before some of you-wishes to rail at absolute governments, he talks of

"The monstrous faith of many made for one."

Then there are two maxims, one in politics and one in religion, which have both been extensively found fault with, but the very amount of censure proves what alone I am now attempting to establish, not the truth or justice of Pope's words, but their great vogue and currency—

"For forms of government let fools contest;
Whate'er is best administered is best :
For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight;

His can't be wrong whose life is in the right."

It is now time to judge Pope from his own works, by which, of course, his place in the estimate of posterity must finally stand.

I shall pass hurriedly by his earlier compositions. He tells us himself of the precocity of his genius :

"I lisped in numbers, for the numbers came."

But his very youthful productions, on the whole, appear to be more remarkable for their dates than their intrinsic merits. He wrote his Pastorals at sixteen. Independently of the age at which they were written, they appear to me trivial, forced, out of keeping with the English soil and life to which they are by way of being assigned. One piece of praise is justly their due; after the publication of these verses by a youth, we may call him a boy, of sixteen, I do not see why a rugged or inharmonious English verse need ever again have been written; and what is more, I believe very few such have been written. Mr. Macaulay says on this point, " From the time when the Pastorals appeared, heroic versification became matter of rule and compass, and, before long, all artists were on a level." It was surely better that this level should be one upon which the reader could travel smoothly along, without jolts or stumbles.

In the short poem of the Messiah, I do justice to the stately flow of verse upon the highest of human themes. Both Dr. Johnson and Dr. Warton give it a decided preference over the Pollio of Virgil, which is concerned with topics of close and wonderful similarity. I do not know how far they are right, but I feel quite sure that both the Pollio of Virgil and the Messiah of Pope fall immeasurably below the prose translation of Isaiah in our Bibles.

Windsor Forest appears to be on the whole a cold production. It contains some good lines on the poet Earl of Surrey

"Matchless his pen, victorious was his lance,

Bold in the lists, and graceful in the dance❞—

an extremely pretty account of the flight and plumage of a pheasant, a very poetical list of the tributaries of the Thames, and some well-sounding verses on the Peace of Utrecht, then recently concluded, from which in the early part of this year I was induced to quote some lines which I thought very apposite to the proposed Exhibition of the Industry of All Nations, at London, in 1851 :

"The time shall come, when, free as seas or wind,

Unbounded Thames shall flow for all mankind,
Whole nations enter with each swelling tide,

And seas but join the regions they divide ;

Earth's distant ends our glories shall behold,

And the new world launch forth to meet the old."

I need not say

The Odes written by Pope are decidedly of an inferior caste. how inferior to the immortal Ode on St. Cecilia's Day, by Dryden, who preceded or how inferior to Gray or Campbell, who have followed him. The Ode, perhaps, of every species of poetical composition, was the most alien to the genius of Pope; its character is rapt, vehement, abrupt; his is composed, polished, methodical; his haunt would not be the mountain top, or the foaming cataract, but the smooth parterre and the gilded saloon. You may prefer one bent of mind, as you would one form of scenery; the question with which I now invite you to deal is, not in what style Pope wrote, but in the style which he chose, and for which his nature best fitted him, how far he excelled.

Among the very youthful productions of Pope, there were also some adaptations from Chaucer, Ovid, and one or two more ancient authors; in point of execution they are only distinguished by their smooth versification, and the matter of them ought to have forbidden the attempt.

In speaking as I have done of many of Pope's earlier compositions, however I may assume myself to be a devoted admirer-partisan if you should so please to